


it's so late, but i've waited

by OllieOllieOxenfree (BeauBrummellBaby)



Series: through the long night - Weekman [4]
Category: Bandom, Falling in Reverse, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco, The Brobecks
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breezy checks his vibes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dallon has anxiety, Emotional Baggage, First Time, Frottage, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Phone Sex, botched attempts at sexual encounters, breezy being a good best friend, dallon being a dork, mlm/wlw solidarity, ryan also being a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25779646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeauBrummellBaby/pseuds/OllieOllieOxenfree
Summary: How long can you want something, someone, before your desire gets in your own way?-Dallon and Ryan take more drastic steps toward reconnecting, as bandmates and lovers, but will they make it or will they fall into their same old mistakes?
Relationships: Breezy Weekes & Dallon Weekes, Breezy Weekes & Ryan Seaman, Dallon Weekes & Spencer Smith, Ryan Seaman/Dallon Weekes
Series: through the long night - Weekman [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844041
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I spent way too long on this and as of publishing this first chapter I'm STILL NOT DONE. Decided to post this in two chapters, because I realized that the end of this chapter is a natural stopping point. As with earlier in the series, you can stop at the end of this chapter if you prefer a slightly more ambiguous ending. But if you'd rather hear everything I have to say about this series, feel free to wait a bit longer for (or just go right on to, if you're reading this after completion) the next chapter.  
> Played with the timeline again because... what the hell you know it's just as well (cause after a while in a thousand miles, it all becomes the same)

_ Ryan: is it true? you're not in Panic anymore? _

_ DW 💖: Yes and no. _

_ DW 💖: I play for him. But I don't write anymore and don't get any credit for what I've already done. _

_ Ryan: I'm sorry _

_ DW 💖: Don't be. Now I don't have to pretend it's anything more than a job. _

_ Ryan: I know things ended badly _

_ Ryan: but you never felt that way about us, did you? _

_ Ryan: … Dallon? _

_ DW 💖: No. _

"Hey," Dallon's voice is rough and sleepy through the receiver, but it's there and that's all that matters.

"Hey," Ryan responds dumbly, a little self-conscious about having called at this hour. "Listen, Dallon, I just wanted to say that I love you."

"I know."

"What?!" Ryan almost picks up his phone and throws it, and is rewarded for not following his instincts with the bright sound of Dallon's laugh, molten-golden notes all in tune. God, how he's missed that magic noise. "It's not funny, you asshole!"

"It would be if you could stay awake long enough to finish The Empire Strikes Back." He takes a second to compose himself, the sound of his shaky breaths making Ryan smile uncontrollably. "It's what Han Solo says to Leia Organa. She tells him she loves him, and he says 'I know' like some kind of asshole. Cause it's his way of saying, like, he's caught off guard and scared because he doesn't know whether he'll make it out alive or what he'll do if he does, but basically it means, I love you too. Ryan. I love you too."

"Oh." There's an odd feeling in Ryan's chest, like a weight he didn't even know was there has been lifted. "You could have just said that!"

"Nah," Dallon says casually before a barely-stifled yawn. "I like making you sweat."

Ryan shivers at that. There was a little bit of a growl on that last sentence that he's not sure can be entirely explained away by Dallon's sleepiness.

"So, drummer boy," and here comes that playful drawl, signifying the drop of the proverbial other shoe, “what are you doing awake at this hour?”

Ryan weighs his options. “Why don’t you tell me what you think, and I’ll tell you how close you are?”

“Well,” and he can hear Dallon smile, “I think you’re missing me.”

“You’re right about that.”

Distantly, there’s the sound of fabric rustling. Sheets, probably. “There’s an echo when I talk. So I think you have me on speakerphone.”

He glances down at his phone. “Right again.”

“Hmm,” Dallon’s soft hum is somehow both soft and predatory. Somehow it also doesn’t manage to drown out the unmistakable sound of a zipper. “So, here’s my best guess. You’re laying in bed, just like I am, with your phone on speakerphone on the pillow next to your head. You’re awake and alone and don’t know what to do with yourself, with all your restless energy. So you called me to help relieve some of that. What do you want me to do about it, pretty thing?”

“Um,” Ryan freezes, staring at his reflection in the too-bright bathroom mirror. “You’re half right?”

“Oh?” Fabric rustling again. Bedsprings creaking. “Which part was I right about?”

“Well, I am alone,” he stalls as he looks around. “And uh, I did call you. Because. Restless energy.”

Dallon sighs on the other side of the line, and Ryan knows that sigh from too many nights alone on his end and he is NOT doing this right now, especially not when the sigh turns into a gentle gasp, nope, he’s going to stop this any second now,

“So tell me Ryan, where are your hands right now?”

Ryan shuts his eyes tightly. “Covered in hair dye.”

“Oh.”

It’s not unlike the unnerving silence after a guitar string snaps, when the sound goes dead but before the pain and embarrassment fully set in. “Dallon, I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to be sexy and when I tell you you’re succeeding please believe me, but I really am in the middle of dyeing my hair and I’m trying not to get blue handprints on my dick.”

A few more seconds of silence. “Blue, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Neat.” Dallon overpronounces the t at the end of the word. It’s weirdly cute. “I bet it’ll look good on you.”

Privately, Ryan thinks to himself that Dallon would also look good on him. He elects to not say this out loud just yet.

“Are you finished putting it in?”

Ryan sputters. “What?”

There comes that soft, musical laugh again. “The dye, Ryan. How long do you have to wait before washing it out?”

He peels his gloves off and looks at the clock. “20 more minutes maybe?”

Dallon clicks his tongue a few times. “I should hang up before too long. Early call tomorrow.”

“Right,” Ryan says as if he knows. He doesn’t, really, it just feels right.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be thinking of you.” There’s a smirk in Dallon’s voice, betraying to Ryan that their earlier conversation isn’t completely over. “Often.” Bastard. “In a few minutes, when you get into the shower to wash all that dye out… I hope you think of me as well.”

Ryan presses his hips against the sink to relieve some of the building pressure. “I will.”

“Good.” That was definitely a growl there. “Goodnight, Ryan. I love you.”

_ Bastard. I hate you. I hate what you do to me. _ “Love you too, Dal. Goodnight.”

For the next 20 minutes, Ryan tries and fails to not think of Dallon. He then strips quickly and stands under the shower head for what feels like far too long. When the water starts running passably clear, he finally lets himself think of Dallon, imagining that the droplets hitting his back and neck are Dallon’s fingertips caressing his lonely skin.

* * *

_ DW: Remember when I told you I wasn’t writing anymore? _

_ Nerd Ryan: vaguely yes _

_ DW: … Let’s say that was a lie. _

_ DW: In this completely hypothetical situation, _

_ DW: Let’s assume that I’ve written some music. _

_ Nerd Ryan: I’m listening _

_ DW: Would you be willing to record some drum parts? _

_ Nerd Ryan: Dallon. _

_ Nerd Ryan: sweetheart. _

_ Nerd Ryan: you didn’t even need to ask. _

_ Nerd Ryan: but _

_ Nerd Ryan: I have been hoping you would 😉😏 _

_ DW: Your use of emojis confuses me. Stop it. _

_ Nerd Ryan: make me 😜 😘 _

A thrill surges through Dallon’s chest at that last message. He feels closer to Ryan than he’s ever been, as if he can just reach out and touch him without the invisible barrier that’s been keeping them apart for so many years. The thought petrifies him. He’s never known how to want Ryan without limits.

_ Nerd Ryan: you good there buddy? _

It helps that Ryan is unchanged, aside from a brighter hair color and a darker wardrobe. Dallon’s not sure how he survived his early twenties, constantly chasing people who weren’t his best friend. At 35, he can’t imagine life another way.

_ DW: More than good. Miss you though. _

_ Nerd Ryan: miss you too. _

_ DW: Let me know when you’re done with Warped? We can get some recording done. _

_ DW: Or… Whatever. _

_ Nerd Ryan: I’m up for whatever ☺️ _

Dallon smiles at his phone. He then googles the dates of Falling in Reverse’s stint on Warped tour and sets a date on his calendar.

* * *

“Do I want to know?”

“Hmm?” Dallon turns around to see Ryan holding out the sheet of lyrics, sitting on his bass drum and leaning forward intently.

“ _ I wouldn’t hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die _ ?  _ I’ll break your fucking face _ ? Dallon, who hurt you?”

“No one,” he mumbles, but he knows he’s not convincing anyone. “Okay, maybe some things happened with Panic that I’m not ready to talk about yet. But I’m fine, Ryan, I promise.”

Ryan sets down the lyric sheet and stands up, laying his hands on Dallon’s waist. “You’ll talk to me when you’re ready, right?”

“Yeah.” Dallon frames Ryan’s pretty face in his hands, brushing electric blue hair out of his deep brown eyes. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

“I know.”

It’s unclear who initiates the kiss, but soon they’re pressed together in one long, unmoving embrace. Dallon exhales shakily against Ryan’s cheek, stroking the rough skin with his thumbs. He presses their foreheads together once their lips separate. “You’re hurting too,” he whispers into the brief space between them. “I can feel it.”

Ryan shushes him. “I don’t want to talk either. Just want you.” His grip tightens on Dallon’s waist.

“You have me.” He leans forward into another kiss, breathing in sharply as if he can inhale Ryan’s sadness to spit out later.

Ryan breaks the kiss to rest his head on Dallon’s shoulder and hold him tighter. “I’m waiting for the regret to sink in, and it’s not coming. Why am I looking out for something to go wrong?”

Dallon twists a hand into his hair, not pulling or pushing, just holding him in place. “You don’t have to know the answer. I don’t think either of us knows.”

“Do you think we’ll work out?”

“I think, Ryan, if you want it enough, there’s always a chance.”

Ryan pulls back and looks into Dallon’s eyes. “That’s not really an answer. It wasn’t 8 years ago, and it isn’t now.”

Dallon responds by kissing his lips again, once, twice, three times in quick succession, chaste little pecks followed by one real kiss. “I want this enough that I will make it work. So, in short, yes.”

Ryan stands on his toes for a second to kiss Dallon. “I have to leave for Australia soon,” he says as he slides his hands up Dallon’s chest to rest on his shoulders. “Wait for me to get back?”

“Always.”

* * *

_ DW 💖: I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME _

_ Ryan: what _

_ DW 💖: It’s a line from Back to the Future. _

_ DW 💖: I’ve always wanted to use that as a name for an album or song or something. _

_ DW 💖: We could do that ourselves. _

_ Ryan: fuck it _

_ Ryan: make that our band name _

_ DW 💖: … Great Scott. _

_ Ryan: *throws toilet paper* _

_ Ryan: sorry, but you did walk into that one 😘 _

_ DW 💖: I did. _

_ DW 💖: Do you think the band name is too long? _

_ Ryan: nah _

_ Ryan: people said Bohemian Rhapsody was too long _

_ Ryan: it’s not even the longest song on that album _

_ Ryan: but the point is it’s the greatest song ever _

_ DW 💖: I want to argue that but I can’t. _

_ Ryan: I think it’s time you stop caring what other people think _

_ Ryan: about you, about your music, everything _

_ Ryan: except me. please keep caring what I think. _

_ Ryan: ☺️ _

_ DW 💖: I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME! _

_ Ryan: I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME!!! 💖 _

_ Ryan: we’re gonna take over the world, dude _

_ DW 💖: I already have. _

_ DW 💖: You’re my world. _

Ryan smiles down at his phone, giggling like an idiot.

_ Ryan: … dude. _

_ Ryan: you’re SUCH a dork _

_ DW 💖: You love me for it. _

_ Ryan: I do. ☺️ _

_ Ryan: see you as soon as I’m back in America, okay? _

_ DW 💖: Not a second later. _

* * *

“Oh my god.” Ryan almost drops to his knees when he sees Dallon waiting for him at the airport. “You really weren’t kidding.”

Dallon pulls him into a hug. “I don’t kid. Ever. I take everything extremely seriously,” he whispers into Ryan’s hair.

Ryan doesn’t even feel like arguing that. He just lets himself melt into his friend’s (boyfriend’s?) warmth as Dallon squeezes him and presses a chaste kiss to the side of his head. “Take me home?”

“Of course.”

The question lingers in Ryan’s mind as Dallon walks him through baggage claim and out of the airport. They’re in Dallon’s car, about halfway to his house, when he finally works up the nerve to ask. “Dallon, what are we?”

Dallon’s gaze doesn’t appear to waver from the road. The sunglasses he’s so fond of make it hard to tell, but Ryan is sure he doesn’t look away. “Humans. Presumably.”

Ryan rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean, Dal. What are we doing?”

Dallon shrugs. “I was under the impression that we were forming a band again, one of our own, in between playing for our respective other bands. Is that not the way you see it?”

“I don’t mean the band!” Ryan doesn’t mean to snap, but it comes out harsh. “I’m sorry. I mean, what’s our relationship? Are we just friends with almost-benefits or do we have something more?”

“I’m sorry?” Dallon drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I thought we already established we were boyfriends about the time the Brobecks broke up.”

“That long?! Dal, what?”

“When you drove me home that one night, the night we kissed for the first time, you said I was worth waiting for as a friend and as a boyfriend. I took that to mean you already saw me as both.”

Ryan folds his arms over his chest, the beginning of a laugh starting to bubble out. “Here I’ve been waiting to see how to put a label on this thing we have, and you’ve had that label for seven years already.” His laugh finally spills out, and then Dallon starts laughing, and within minutes they're both red-faced messes.

"Well, crap," Dallon says with a giggle, "I really cheated myself out of the opportunity to ask you out properly."

"Don't sweat it." Ryan sets his hand on top of Dallon's, linking their fingers together atop the gearshift. They stay in that position until the car pulls up in front of Ryan's house. "Come in with me? I'm probably just going to pass out the second we get inside, but I'd still like to have you there."

"Of course," Dallon says with a kiss to the back of his hand, "I'll make sure you at least make it to bed before you collapse."

"Such a gentleman."

As they walk, Ryan fixates on the warmth of Dallon's palm against his. Somehow just holding hands while walking feels far more intimate than anything they've done, at least anything they've done recently. He likes this. It feels right. He doesn't even think to feel awkward about it when he leads Dallon to his bedroom, lies down, and opens his arms in a silent plea for Dallon to lie with him.

"Thank you for picking me up," Ryan says, barely above a whisper, once he and Dallon are lying face to face. "I really didn't want to be alone today."

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ryan presses a kiss to Dallon’s wrist, just because it’s the closest thing to his mouth. “I don’t think Ronnie is going to keep me around much longer. What’s more, I don’t think I want him to keep me around. But when I think about leaving, it makes me feel like I’ve wasted the last five years of my life.” He brings up his hands to rest on Dallon’s where they frame his face against the pillows. “I’m telling you because I love you, but also because I think you understand, don’t you?”

Dallon answers with a kiss. It’s not soft or gentle, but there’s no real force or lust behind it. Ryan can hear the unspoken words in Dallon’s answer, “ _ thank you for saying what I couldn’t say. I’m sorry you feel it too. Please don’t let go of me. _ ” If there was any doubt, it’s quelled when Ryan feels a teardrop that definitely is not his fall onto his cheekbone. He answers in turn by holding Dallon tighter.

“How come one of us always ends up crying?” Ryan murmurs against Dallon’s lips once the kiss dissolves.

“I can’t speak for you, but for me, I’m an emotional guy and I have to hide that from everyone else. You know how it is. Bassists should be seen and not heard.” Dallon lets out a dry laugh as he brushes hair away from Ryan’s eyes. “But when I’m with you, I know I can let my guard down. I don’t have to be strong or stoic, I can just feel what I feel.” He drags his thumb along Ryan’s jaw. “You give me strength, Ryan. Strength to be weak.”

“We’re going to make this work,” he whispers insistently. “Dallon. I don’t care what we have to do. But I love you, and this is going to work.” He trades soft kisses with Dallon until the lull of sleep overtakes him.

When Ryan wakes up, it’s dark out. He thinks he may need another day to adapt back to Pacific standard time, also known to him as normal human time. There’s a comforting weight over the left side of his body, which becomes even more comforting once his eyes adjust to the dark and he realizes it’s Dallon. They must have somehow changed positions in their sleep, because now Ryan is on his back and Dallon is on his stomach, half draped over Ryan with a hand on his bicep and their legs tangled together. Ryan gazes fondly at Dallon’s sleeping face, tucked into his shoulder and drooling slightly, and decides he wants to wake up to that sight every morning for the rest of his life.

* * *

_ DW: What would you say if I told you I got us a gig? _

_ Nerd Ryan: already?????? _

_ Nerd Ryan: dude that’s insane _

_ Nerd Ryan: when? _

_ DW: December sixth. _

_ DW: A lot of bands are playing, so our setlist won’t be that long. _

_ DW: If you’re up for it? _

_ Nerd Ryan: dude _

_ Nerd Ryan: YES OFC _

_ DW: Neat. That gives us a couple weeks to decide our setlist and rehearse. _

_ Nerd Ryan: and when you say rehearse _

_ Nerd Ryan: you mean talk about music for a little bit and then make out, right? 😉😏 _

_ DW: I can neither confirm nor deny this assumption. _

_ DW: Can you come over later today? _

_ Nerd Ryan: yes sir _

Dallon shivers after reading that, a little glad that this isn’t a verbal conversation.

_ DW: Oh, behave. _

_ Nerd Ryan: nope 😜 _

_ Nerd Ryan: also I read that in an Austin Powers voice and I don’t know whether you meant me to or _

_ DW: Groovy. _

_ Nerd Ryan: you’re SUCH a dork _

_ DW: Once again, I can neither confirm nor deny this statement. _

_ Nerd Ryan: you’re lucky I happen to love dorks _

_ DW: Plural? _

_ Nerd Ryan: okay, you got me there _

_ Nerd Ryan: now what are you going to do with me? 😉😏 _

_ DW: Come over and find out. _

Dallon looks in disbelief at what he just typed. He really had meant to get work done today, but he isn’t sure how possible that is when Ryan has him acting like this. He pushes all that aside when the doorbell rings about an hour later, and Ryan greets him with a chaste, sweet kiss.

Ryan taps on the cymbals with his fingers as he circles the drumkit. "You left it set up for me, just the way I always set mine," he marvels.

"Why wouldn't I? The only person who's ever played this kit other than you is Matt, and he hasn't been around since the last time you were here."

"Matt Glass?" Ryan lights up when Dallon nods. "Fuck, I miss that dude. I didn't know you still talked to him."

"Not as much as I'd like." Dallon shrugs. "I should, really. Apart from you, I think Matt and Breezy are the only friends I have left from those days."

Ryan continues smiling, and God, Dallon's not even sure he should be looking at that without sunglasses. "Breezy, shit, I've missed her too. We really need to do something, all four of us."

"For sure." Something tugs at Dallon's heartstrings at the words "we" and "us", but he's unsure of the direction it's pulling. He hooks up his laptop to an amp and walks Ryan through the setlist.

"I like the new version of A Letter," Ryan says later, when Dallon sets down his bass and unplugs everything. "The robot voice? Genius."

"Do you think the audience will like it too?"

"Dallon." Ryan stands up and walks over to Dallon. "What did I tell you about caring what other people think?"

Dallon sighs, wrapping his arms around Ryan's waist. "You're right. I love you." He leans his head down and lets Ryan close the gap between their lips.

There’s a warm familiarity to Ryan’s lips that Dallon surrenders to in seconds. But the thing about warmth is, it becomes heat when it’s allowed to. It starts with the curious swipe of a tongue, followed by teeth catching on his bottom lip. He clings to Ryan harder, soft moans getting stuck in his throat. Dallon walks backward until his back hits the wall, and he lets himself be pinned there by Ryan’s weight. He's glad to have the wall to lean against when Ryan moves away from his mouth and begins sucking and licking at the crook of his neck. His back arches, body electrified and understimulated all at once, moaning wantonly and grasping at Ryan everywhere he can reach.

“I can’t believe,” Ryan pants in between open-mouthed kisses around Dallon’s disheveled collar, “that I get to have you, today of all days.” Dallon means to ask, but all that comes out is a whimper. Ryan, ever a considerate bastard, answers anyway. “On this day, eight years ago, was the first time I realized that I loved you.”

An invisible hand snakes its fingers around Dallon’s heart and squeezes, hard. At the same time, Ryan’s hand snakes down between their bodies to press against the bulge in Dallon’s pants while he bites down on his neck. A thousand thoughts buzz around in Dallon’s mind, but the only one that makes it to words comes tumbling out of his mouth. “Bedroom?”

Ryan licks the newest bite mark and rubs the bulge once, the pressure too faint to do anything other than make Dallon’s knees weak. “Lead the way, doll.”

Dallon stumbles through the house. Lust makes him move like a hurricane, tearing toward his bedroom in a gust of unrefined energy, ready to destroy anything that gets in his way. He slams the door shut once they reach their destination and once again guides Ryan to pin him to the wall.

"Dal," Ryan pants, mapping out Dallon's clothed chest with his warm, rough hands, "I've never been with another guy before." He looks up, a hint of fear and uncertainty in his onyx eyes.

A surge of possessiveness flashes through Dallon's body, beginning as a jolt in his heart and ending as a twitch in his cock. "Let me show you how good it can be," he growls. He takes a moment to relish the spark in Ryan's eyes before picking him up just an inch or so off the ground and carrying him a few steps to throw him down on the bed. Dallon flicks open the button and zipper of Ryan's tight black jeans, cursing the way they stick to his legs as he peels them down to his knees, taking the boxer briefs with them. Something claws at the back of Dallon's mind, a desire to control himself and take Ryan apart slowly, carefully. He can't sort his thoughts clearly through the haze of  _ dear God Ryan is in my bed, he's in my bed and he wants me. I need him. _ He pins down Ryan's hips in a bruising grip and licks a stripe up his cock. His lips close over the head, and he takes a second to breathe in the moment, to breathe in Ryan’s desperation, before sucking down as much as he can take.

“Dallon,  _ fuck _ ,” Ryan yelps, one of his hands flying to Dallon’s hair, and  _ oh _ how dangerous that is. Dallon grinds his hips down against the mattress and sucks harder, bobbing his head and rubbing with his tongue the way he hopes is good. It’s been a long time since he’s sucked anyone off, and he’s never done it while not on his knees. Certainly nothing intimate like this. At the very least, Ryan seems to have no complaints.

_ Ryan deserves better. _

The thought hits him like a sucker punch to the chest. Ryan deserves better, deserves romance and sensuality and making love, not just a quick cheap blowjob. Not for their first time. Dallon curses himself for letting his libido get in the way of Ryan’s needs  _ again _ .

“Dallon, Dallon stop.”

He was already slowing down before Ryan spoke, but now he slows to a crawl as he looks into Ryan’s eyes, letting his gradually closing mouth brush barely against the hot, velvety skin. Dallon can’t help but whimper when Ryan tugs at his hair.

“Damn dude, you really almost made me blow my load there.”

A rational person would point out the questionable ethics of calling a man dude while his lips are still touching your cock. Or perhaps they’d point out that the point of a blowjob is, in many cases, helping someone achieve orgasm. Dallon does not in this moment consider himself a rational person.

“Come up here. Want to touch you.”

A rational person would stop, would pull back, would apologize. Dallon decides to let himself be irrational once he feels lips on his throat and calloused hands on his suddenly-bare thighs.

“Um,” Ryan begins again, “is it so different from jacking yourself off? I really don’t-”

Dallon shushes him. “Let me show you,” he growls, almost more to his own doubts than to the beautiful disaster beneath him. Dallon lines up their cocks and savors the sharp hiss Ryan lets out when he rolls his hips. It’s not enough. He reaches down between them and wraps a hand around both, slowly starting to jerk them both off while he thrusts into his fist. Ryan leans forward into a press of lips that’s far too messy to really be called a kiss.

“Give me your hand,” Dallon grunts in the brief moment that Ryan’s tongue stops invading his mouth. He reaches up for Ryan's hand and brings it back down to the slim, hot space between their bodies, linking their fingers together around both their cocks. Dallon guides Ryan into a rhythm at first but soon lets him take over. He's shamelessly humping Ryan now, seeking that painfully sweet friction with a wild abandon. The tempo at which Ryan guides their hands is too fast, it's all too much, and Dallon whimpers and collapses onto Ryan as his orgasm crashes through him. Ryan follows a few strokes later, his back arching and mouth open in a stuttered scream.

"Dallon," Ryan pants, "Dallon  _ fuck _ . I always figured you'd be good, but  _ Jesus Christ _ ." A stone sinks into Dallon's stomach, sinking even deeper when Ryan kisses him softly. "I love you," Ryan whispers before another kiss. Dallon doesn't answer.

"We should have undressed," Dallon mumbles.

"Shit, probably."

"Stay here. I'll wash all these." Dallon pulls his pants back up and looks away as Ryan strips fully, somehow feeling dirty for watching him. He takes a bathrobe along with Ryan's clothes and skulks off to his laundry room.

_ DW: I fucked up. _

_ Breezy Dee: Where's the body and how many pieces is it in _

_ DW: Breezy. _

_ DW: I slept with Ryan. _

_ Breezy Dee: Well, I want to congratulate you _

_ Breezy Dee: But I feel like we're not quite on the same page _

_ Breezy Dee: Why is it a bad thing? _

_ DW: I don't know. Everything about this feels wrong. _

_ Breezy Dee: Dallon, PLEASE tell me you didn't fuck him and run like the first time you ever slept with a guy. _

_ DW: He's in my bed, Breezy. Where would I run to? _

_ Breezy Dee: You brought him home? Good. He deserves that _

_ DW: That's just the thing. _

_ DW: Ryan deserves better than I'm giving him. _

_ DW: This is strictly confidential. But I'm the first man he's ever been with. _

_ Breezy Dee: Seriously? That's not what I would have guessed _

_ Breezy Dee: But carry on _

_ DW: I should have done something more for him, not make his first time feel like some cheap hookup. _

_ Breezy Dee: Did he tell you that???? _

_ DW: No. _

_ Breezy: Stop typing _

_ Breezy Dee: Don't you dare fucking follow that with "but he didn't have to". _

_ DW: I feel like a whore. _

_ Breezy: Dal, you've been exclusively dating the guy for seven years without sex, and you didn't even sleep with anyone for the year and a half before that when you were pining for him. If you kept this up much longer, you’d go blind. _

_ DW: "Dating" might be a bit of a strong word. _

_ DW: Turns out I was wrong when I initially told you he and I were together. We don't technically have a label for what we are, I don't think. _

_ Breezy Dee: Okay, that does change things a bit _

_ Breezy Dee: He does know how you feel about him, right? _

_ DW: Yes. I've told him I love him many times. _

_ Breezy Dee: Recently? _

_ DW: Yes. _

_ Breezy Dee: And he's said it back? _

_ DW: He often says it first. _

_ DW: I just don't know if I believe him. _

_ Breezy Dee: Why not? _

_ DW: I’m afraid, B. What if all we’re doing is trying to repeat the past? _

_ Breezy Dee: I’m not the person you should be asking, am I _

_ Breezy Dee: But think about this. _

_ Breezy Dee: They say you can’t repeat the past, but that’s only half true. Time keeps repeating, endlessly. The past repeats itself without your intervention. Only when you intentionally try to repeat things is when they go wrong. _

_ Breezy Dee: You’re in a band together, sure. And you’re still in love with him. That’s time repeating its own cycle. This band? Not the Brobecks. You? Not the same person you were then.  _

_ DW: Ryan told me that it was eight years ago today he first knew he loved me. I don’t even remember what happened eight years ago today. _

_ Breezy Dee: Maybe that’s for the better _

_ Breezy Dee: Nostalgia can be a dirty liar. _

_ Breezy Dee: You can ask him, if it really bothers you. But for now _

_ Breezy Dee: There’s a beautiful man in your bed that you’ve been pining after for over eight years. Just let yourself live in this moment while it happens _

The timer on the washing machine beeps, pulling Dallon out of his thoughts. He shivers, pulls his bathrobe tighter around himself, and transfers everything to the dryer.

_ DW: Love you. _

_ Breezy Dee: Love you too, Dal. See you soon, okay? _

_ DW: Yeah. _

He really doesn’t feel like waiting around for the dryer, but the idea of facing Ryan again so soon makes an icy dread creep into his veins, corroding and eating away at the boundaries in his mind between good and bad decisions. Dallon slips his phone into the pocket of his robe and sneaks back into his bedroom.

Ryan is already asleep when he returns, sprawled out in the center of the mattress and tangled in the sheets like a fallen angel whose wings have melted away into the sheets. To hell with it, Dallon decides, and strips off his robe to join him. He finds himself addicted to feeling the bare skin of Ryan’s chest under his palm. Dallon tucks his head into the crook of his- partner? His boyfriend? His friend? His- Ryan. Dallon tucks his head into the crook of  _ his Ryan _ ’s shoulder and counts the steady breaths he feels under his hand until he falls asleep.

* * *

_ You know, whenever I say to myself, “what if this doesn’t work out?” _ _  
_ _ The first person I think of is you. _

Dallon stares in wonder at Ryan, both of them frozen in place. Ryan, face like heaven, body like marble. As Dallon strums, he meets Ryan’s eyes and questions why he ever made himself wait for this. He loves Ryan. Wholly. Completely. Passionately. More than he ever thought possible, and he knows that tomorrow he’s going to love him even more. Ryan smirks at him before kicking back into his usual energetic drumming, and Dallon turns back to the audience to guide them in the vocals he wrote a lifetime ago.

~

_ It’s hard to stay focused when I’m with you all the time _ _  
_ _ And when I’m not, I’m thinking about you. _

Ryan doesn’t need to focus, just feels the song in his chest. He keeps a steady syncopated beat with the kick drum, alternating between taps of the hi-hat and brief snare rolls on the upbeat. He doesn’t need focus. He watches Dallon freeze, his silhouette dark and ethereal under the stage lights. Every time he sees Dallon, he wants that moment to last, or at least repeat, for the rest of his life. Ryan suddenly remembers that this is what being in a band is supposed to be like. Fuck the size of the crowds, the fame, the money, it’s about playing music he loves with someone he loves even more. A switch flips in both the music and in Ryan, and he kicks his kit to life with renewed energy while Dallon sings.

~

_ I can’t get close to people very easily, unless I know it’s worth it _

Ryan is so, so worth it. Worth all the heartbreak Dallon has put himself through over the last eight and a half years. And if it all ends tomorrow, it still will have been worth it.

~

_ I felt close to you instantly. _

Eight and a half years since the first time his gentle giant crashed into Ryan’s life, wearing a sportcoat and overgrown emo hair despite the desert heat and the insistence that he was in fact not an emo. Eight and a half years all led to this moment. That dumb hipster bassist stole Ryan’s heart that day and really wasn’t ever going to give it back. Even if it took a couple more months and hitting a deer on the highway to realize it was gone. It was okay. Dallon deserved that heart.

~

_ I wish you all the happiness in the world. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up a whole ass month later with a pumpkin spice chai latte* hey
> 
> remember when I said this wouldn't be as long as My Love Will Keep You Warm Throughout the Night? yeah I try not to

"Dallon!" Breezy shouts as she runs over, and Dallon doesn't hesitate to hug her and pick her up a few inches off the ground. "Dallon, that was incredible! I've missed seeing you as a frontman so much.” She giggles as he sets her down with a kiss on the cheek. “And I seriously love your makeup, it’s so unique! Very… you.”

“Thanks, B.” Dallon lets his fingers hover over a glittery teardrop. “It makes me think of a… rather important moment in my life.” He tries not to shudder when remembering the details. “As for the whole frontman deal, I didn’t realize how much I missed being one! God, I don’t think I could ever go back after this.” Dallon’s heart stops for a second when he realizes what he’s just said. What scares him most is that he’s sure he was telling the truth.

Breezy seems to pick up on it. “You don’t have to know right now,” she says with a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Now, what I have to know is… what’s going on with you and Ryan? Any updates in the last month?”

“Um,” Dallon’s hand reflexively threads itself into his hair. “No. We’ve kind of, um, avoided discussing it.” He sighs and drops his hand when he notices her disappointed look. “I don’t know. We woke up together the next morning and neither one of us knew what to say. So we didn’t try.”

“Dallon, please,” Breezy says softly, “don’t let yourself lose him again.”

He shakes his head, determined. “I won’t.”

“Good,” she says before hugging him again. “I’m proud of you. I believe in you.”

The question of whether or not she’s talking about the band hovers on the tip of his tongue, but she’s gone before he can ask. He resolves to find Ryan instead.

When they reconvene, Ryan gives Dallon an excited hug, and actually picks  _ him _ up off the ground. Dallon knew just by intuition that Ryan was strong, but  _ fuck _ . He’s not a small person, and he’s got his own fair share of muscle and bulk built up over the years. Dallon tries not to dwell on these thoughts, as this is a really unfortunate time to be horny. Their foreheads press together as Ryan sets him back down.

“Hey gorgeous,” Ryan giggles.

“Hey yourself.” Dallon brushes his knuckles over Ryan’s jaw. He desperately wants to kiss him, but decides there are some things better left private. He’d rather stick to gestures that can easily be interpreted by onlookers as platonic. “Want to get going?”

“Sure, I’ll bite,” he shrugs. “Where?”

“Anywhere.”

Ryan nods. “Anywhere sounds good.”

They end up in the parking lot of some restaurant that is, by some miracle, both vegan and open 24 hours. When Ryan puts the car in park, Dallon grabs his hand over the gearshift. He shakes a little, taking a breath to try to slow his heart rate.

“Dal?”

“Ryan.” He swallows and takes another shuddering breath. This went much smoother in his head. “I realized, well, Breezy helped me realize, I never did this properly.” He finally meets Ryan’s eyes, for the first time since they pulled in, and they invite him in. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Dallon.” Ryan’s hand disappears from under Dallon’s, and the loss of heat is striking. He rolls his eyes and undoes his seatbelt, only to turn fully in his seat and reach out for Dallon’s face with both hands, kissing him confidently, sweetly. “Yes, you dork. I thought we decided I already had been for the last seven and a half years?”

Dallon undoes his own seatbelt, then lays his hands on Ryan’s arms. “Just wanted to make sure.” They meet in the middle for another kiss, and another, and another, until they’re laughing breathlessly. “Should we… go have our first date now?”

Ryan’s thumb strokes at Dallon’s cheek as they separate. “So you’re the type to kiss on the first date, huh? Didn’t think you were so easy, Dally.”

As Ryan winks and pulls away, Dallon chuckles and brings his fingers up to brush at his tingling lips. “Guess you have to make an honest man out of me.”

"I like the sound of that."

They hold hands on their way in, giggling and swinging their hands as they walk. At the end of the night, Ryan drops Dallon off at his front door and gives him a goodnight kiss that makes his heart do something like a whiz-bang-flip-flop, dipping him like an old-fashioned gentleman. Dallon is glad to have Ryan holding him up, one arm wrapped around his back and one hand under his knee, otherwise he'd definitely fall. Around four in the morning, he finally falls asleep, thinking of the way Ryan looks under neon lights.

* * *

_ DW 💖: Ryan, is it true? You left Falling in Reverse? _

_ Ryan: yeah. _

_ Ryan: I wanna say that it's not the same as when I started. But the truth is, it's exactly the same. _

_ Ryan: Ronnie's still an asshole. I'm still not going anywhere with that band. _

_ Ryan: time I stopped being afraid that I'm wasting my life, and started doing something about it _

_ Ryan: something with you _

_ DW 💖: You really believe in us that much? _

_ Ryan: I do ☺️ _

_ Ryan: I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME! _

_ DW 💖: I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME!!!!!! _

_ Ryan: I fucking love you. _

_ DW 💖: I love you too. _

_ DW 💖: Let me say it first sometimes, you jerk. _

_ Ryan: nah 🖤💖 _

_ Ryan: you'll have to fight me for it _

_ DW 💖: Challenge accepted. _

* * *

A knock at the front door pulls Ryan out of his haze. He really doesn’t want to answer, and he’s ready to tell whatever unlucky bastard who decided to drop by to fuck off, but his mood turns on a dime when he looks through the peephole. He opens the door almost fast enough to hit himself in the face. "Dallon?" He tries not to let on that he’s exhausted, nerves fraying at every edge. "What brings you all the way over here?"

Dallon’s arms wrap around him immediately. "I read what Ronnie said about you. Figured you did too. Didn't want you dealing with it alone."

A second passes before Ryan responds, clinging tightly to Dallon and burying his face in his chest. "You were right," he murmurs, barely recognizing his own voice. "But it's nothing I shouldn't have expected from him. I'll be fine, Dal."

"Hey." Dallon pulls back a little, and Ryan can feel those piercing blue eyes boring into the top of his head, but he doesn't look up. A finger hooks under his chin, tilting his face up, and he knows he's done for."I love you, and I believe in you. I know you can do things on your own, but that doesn't mean you should have to." His hand drifts to the curve of Ryan's jaw. "I'll leave if you want me to."

“Please stay.” Ryan whispers.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dallon seals his statement with a kiss.

Ryan steps backward, pulling Dallon through the doorway without breaking the kiss. He gets a couple more steps into the room before Dallon breaks away momentarily, shutting the door behind them. Ryan sees a flash of a dazzling smile before he's being kissed again. He continues pulling Dallon, and soon the backs of his knees hit the arm of a couch. He tips over backward slowly, pulling Dallon down on top of him. Dallon seems to get the message and lets him adjust to the small space. Ryan crawls back until only his ankles are hanging over the arm of the tiny couch, and once again pulls his gentle giant down to press their bodies together. A hand sneaks under his shirt after a few moments. He’s okay with it until the hand creeps higher, stroking feather-light touches over his chest while Dallon’s lips move lower, sucking at his neck. Ryan shudders. "D- Dallon?"

"Hmm?" Dallon’s hum vibrates against Ryan’s throat, ending in a gentle nip at the soft skin. He freezes in a panic.

"Dallon stop."

“What’s wrong?” Dallon props himself up on one hand, pulling the other hand out of Ryan’s shirt.

Suddenly cold from the lack of skin contact, Ryan folds his arms over his chest and looks away from Dallon’s icy eyes. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong idea,” he mumbles.

“Ryan?” Dallon sounds so genuinely concerned that it hurts. Ryan wants to keep looking away, but there’s a finger tracing his jawline that’s begging him to spare a glance.

He sighs. “Is it okay if I don’t want sex right now? If all I want is for you to lay on top of me and kiss me?”

“Oh, you pretty little thing,” Dallon whispers, and Ryan tenses. There’s no edge to his voice, and he says it with a kiss on the forehead, but those words tend to precede something… else. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” All the tension leaves Ryan’s body. Dallon’s knuckles brush over his cheek. “Do you want to move to the bed though? Might be easier to lay down.”

Ryan considers it. The position they’re in isn’t necessarily comfortable, given that they’re two not-small men on a small couch. And he trusts Dallon to not do anything to him. But on the other hand, he has no energy to move too far from this spot. He shakes his head.

Dallon climbs off and reaches for his hands. “Here. Sit up. This might be easier on us.” Ryan lets Dallon pull him up to sit normally. After a second, Dallon climbs into his lap. “Better?”

Ryan takes it all in. He can feel the warmth radiating off Dallon’s hands where they rest on the back of the couch, directly behind his head. Dallon’s knees bracket his hips tightly. His weight in Ryan’s lap is solid and comforting. “Yeah. Yeah, this is good. Thank you.”

Dallon smiles before leaning in for a kiss. “Good.” The kisses become longer, slow and lazy. Ryan rests his hands on Dallon’s thighs, admiring the muscle there and deciding that he’d like to spend the rest of his life between them. He lets his hands wander after a while, memorizing the gentle curves of Dallon's body. Dallon responds with a series of small, happy noises that barely escape his throat.

Yeah, Ryan could spend the rest of his life like this. Dallon was worth waiting for, every second and more, but he's not sure how he managed. He just holds Dallon tighter as they kiss and pretends for a moment that he'll never have to let go.

* * *

_ DW: Ryan. _

_ DW: I don’t know how, but. _

_ DW: They found us. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: YOU ASSHOLE I PANICKED OPENING THOSE FIRST TWO MESSAGES _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: can you be cryptic somewhere else _

_ DW: No. _

_ DW: By the way, you’re almost out of almond milk. _

_ DW: And you smell different when you’re awake. _

_ DW: OK, those are the only ominous things I can think to say off the cuff. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: I literally just put almond milk on my grocery list _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: what are you _

Dallon laughs at his phone, typing and erasing a few things before settling on something suitably corny.

_ DW: Just someone who loves you. :) _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: shut UP you bastard (love you too) _

_ DW: I was serious though. People are starting to find us. _

_ DW: I wasn’t ready for people to be aware of our existence so soon. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: just to clarify you do mean the band right? Like, we haven’t been outed or anything like that? _

_ DW: Oh God no. I meant the band. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: good lord dude, how many heart attacks are you going to give me today _

_ DW: Is that a challenge? _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: DALLON. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: DALLON I’M SERIOUS. _

_ DW: :) _

_ DW: Okay but for real. I’ve seen people talking about the bamd on social media. A lot sooner than I expected. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: *band _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: ? _

_ DW: … No. _

_ DW: That was 100% intentional. Just like everything else. I’ve never made a mistake in my life. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: Whatever helps you sleep at night. _

_ DW: I’ve found that I sleep best at night when I’m with you. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: okay if you don’t stop- _

_ DW: Nope. Can’t. _

_ DW: Besides, it’s true. You make a good pillow. And I like you. _

_ DW: Of all the mistakes I haven’t made, you’re my favorite. _

Dallon’s phone starts ringing, the same familiar ringtone he’s had for Ryan for years. He picks up immediately yet cautiously. “Ryan?”

“Dallon, you can’t just say cute ass shit like that when I’m not in the room with you and can’t kiss you senseless.” His voice is harsh, but there’s no real bite behind the words. “I love you so much it frustrates me. Wish I was with you to show you exactly how.”

Dallon laughs. “Love you too. Can’t wait for you to come home.” He blushes immediately. Why did he say that? There is no singular home. They don’t live together. But saying it makes him realize that he wants it to be true. He wants to be the one Ryan comes home to at the end of tour, or better yet, to be the one out on tour with him. He's not sure when he started thinking of himself as more of a husband than a boyfriend, but he’s okay with it.

To his credit, Ryan seems to understand the Freudian slip without commenting on it. “Me too, Dal. Icon for Hire is great, they’re better than Falling in Reverse, but they’re still not you.” He sighs. "Been missing you a lot lately. More than usual."

"Oh, Ryan," Dallon's heart flutters, uncomfortable in the most pleasant way. "I wish I could hug you right now."

Ryan's voice drops. "I wish I could do more than hug you."

A breath catches in Dallon's throat. "Oh?"

Faintly, he hears Ryan sigh and lick his lips. "Yeah."

_ Okay, this is probably happening. _ "Where are you right now?"

"In my bunk on the tour bus." He pauses. "I'm the only one on the bus, you know. Should be for a while."

"Interesting." Dallon lets one hand creep down to the steadily rising bulge in his sweatpants, just barely pressing against it for now. "What would you be doing if you were here with me?"

"I'd have you on your back, straddling your waist and kissing you breathless."

Dallon shifts to lay down fully, closes his eyes, and begins rubbing at the bulge, pretending his hand is Ryan's ass.

"What would you do?"

He switches his phone into speaker mode and sets it down next to his head. "I'd take your shirt off, then see what it takes to leave a mark on those pretty little collarbones of yours."

Ryan moans on the other end. "God, I fucking hope you'll leave a mark one day."

"You like knowing whom you belong to, hmm?" The sound that comes out of Ryan's mouth might be Dallon's name. He finds that encouraging enough to continue. "Talk to me, my sweet. Keep telling me what you'd do if you were here."

"I'd- oh fuck." That last part is choked off, accompanied by slick rhythmic sounds that let Dallon know Ryan is touching himself in earnest. "What I really want to do is blow you. Want to feel you in my throat."

To hell with the teasing. Dallon licks his hand and pushes it past his waistband, immediately wrapping his cock in a tight grip and jerking.

Ryan falters for a moment. “I just- don’t know what I’m doing. You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

“Oh.” Dallon could almost swear he blacks out for a second after hearing that. The thought is too much. He tries to hold off, to stay in the moment, but he finds he can't shake the mental image of Ryan's face between his legs; soft pink lips stretched obscenely around his cock, dark eyes pleading and blown with lust.

"Yeah." Ryan's breaths come heavier and heavier, his words breaking into moans. "I think you'd be a  _ real  _ good teacher."

That’s all Dallon needs to hear before his orgasm rips through him, spilling all over his hand and electrifying his skin. He can hear Ryan getting closer, and the sound is intoxicating. "Ryan," he pants as his breathing steadies out. "Ryan,  _ fuck _ , what do you do to me?"

Ryan lets out one final long whine that tapers off into small whimpers. Dallon realizes that, as good as in-person sex would have been, this is the part he wants to be there for more. He wants to see Ryan's face as the afterglow sets in, wants to clean him off carefully, wants to hold him tightly and feel as much of his bare skin as possible. For now he has to content himself with listening to Ryan's slow, heavy breaths.

"You should swear more often," Ryan pants after a long moment. "I can't describe the effect it has on me."

Dallon laughs. "I think you can," he pauses before tacking on in a playful tone, "slut."

Ryan's full-body shudder is audible. "Dude. I can't get hard again that quickly. Calm down."

_ So THAT'S what Ryan likes. Interesting. _ "I'll consider it." He's smiling uncontrollably, one hand covering his eyes and the other still in his pants, lazily stroking at his thigh. "So, about the band?"

"Yeah?" Ryan's voice sounds foggy and tired, and Dallon briefly wonders whether he always gets sleepy immediately after sex. He decides he'll make an effort to find out for himself.

"I think it's time we stopped denying what we have. Made an announcement or something.”

“I don’t know how, but they’ll find us.”

Warmth spreads through Dallon’s body at Ryan’s words. He loves the damn nerd more than he knows how to say. On the other end, Ryan breaks into a giggle that fully melts Dallon’s heart. “Come see me once you’re done with this tour?”

“Not a second later. I mean it, Dal. I’ll find a way to teleport directly into your house as soon as my last show is over. Like, one of those phone box things.”

Dallon snorts. “You mean a TARDIS?”

“Yeah. The blue phone box thing with the time and relative dimensions and shit.” Ryan pauses for a second while Dallon tries hard not to laugh. “Wait, isn’t it an acronym? Is that what it stands for? Time and Relative Dimensions and Shit?”

“Ryan, I fucking love you.” Dallon scolds himself for not sticking around to see this side of Ryan the first time they fooled around. This sleepy, nonsensical side is just yet another thing to adore about him.

“I know.” Ryan giggles, coming in fits for a moment before calming down. “And I love you too.”

* * *

_ DW 💖: Follow along… _

_ Ryan: dude, the fans are going to lose their shit. _

_ DW 💖: Fans. _

_ DW 💖: We have fans, Ryan. _

_ DW 💖: !!!!!!! _

_ Ryan: I’m proud of us. _

_ Ryan: most of all, I’m proud of you. _

_ DW 💖: I couldn’t have done it without you. _

_ Ryan: you don't give yourself enough credit _

_ Ryan: you've done a lot of great things without me _

_ DW 💖: You don't know how much it was the thought of you that kept me going. _

_ Ryan: Dal… _

Ryan taps idly at his phone screen, trying to think of anything to say and coming up blank. Finally he decides to go for broke.

_ Ryan: don't ever let me leave you again. _

_ DW 💖: As long as you promise me the same thing. _

* * *

_ Nerd Boyfriend: dude _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: our video is starting to go viral _

_ DW: What are the comments saying? Admittedly I've been scared to check. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: people love the song. They love us _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: !!!!!!!!! _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: and… lots of them are proud of you for being independent of Panic _

Dallon fixates on the word. Independent. It's true, he realizes with a bittersweet feeling. For the first time in years he feels untethered. Unrestrained. Dangerous.

_ Nerd Boyfriend: I'm proud of you too, you know. For the same reason _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: I really believe in us, Dal _

_ DW: Do you mean the band, or…? _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: I think you know. _

He’s not sure. He wants to think he knows, but he’s never sure.

_ DW: I really believe in us too. _

* * *

Ryan twirls one drumstick aimlessly, only half-listening to Super Whatevr through the wall. Dallon’s pacing, fidgeting as he walks.

“Ryan. There’s so many people out there.”

“Dallon, how many sold-out arenas have you played just in the last year?”

Dallon rolls his eyes. “This is different. None of those people were there for me. For us.” He spins on his heels, his arms folding tightly, protectively, around his chest. “Plus, on those kinds of stages, you can’t see the faces of anyone in the crowd. There’s no way to know who they are or what they think of you.”

“Dal, babe, come here.” Ryan sinks deeper into the couch and spreads his arms, smiling when Dallon complies and presses his back into his chest. He pets Dallon’s hair with one hand, resting the other on Dallon’s chest and kissing his temple. “Those people are here for the same reason I am. They love the music, and more importantly, they love you. But if it’s ever too much, just look over at me. I’ll be right over your shoulder the whole time.”

Dallon twists a little, and soon he’s kissing Ryan properly, languid and determined. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Dal. I love you.” Ryan leans back, still holding Dallon tightly to his chest and hoping he can’t feel the buzzing there through his back. He rests his chin in his boyfriend’s hair and focuses on breathing steadily to calm both of them down.

* * *

“You’re all so... beautiful-looking.” Dallon looks out over the crowd in wonder, a little lost. The crowd is heckling him, and on some level, he really doesn’t mind. It feels like he’s surrounded by friends. But it’s throwing him off his game, hard. He thinks of Ryan, how Ryan was the one yelling at him all through A Letter to keep him focused. Emboldened, he stretches out an arm and points at his boyfriend, glaring at him through hooded eyes. “Especially you.” Ryan’s blush is adorable under the stage lights. With a quick wink, Dallon turns back to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, Ryan Seaman on the drums over here.” He can’t help but smile as Ryan plays a quick musical greeting and the crowd cheers. This is the way it was meant to be.

* * *

Ryan slings his jacket over his shoulder, tapping his fingers anxiously on the soda bottle as he drinks from it. He barely even registers the taste, he’s just looking for something to do with his hands as he watches Dallon.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Ryan stammers, mouth suddenly dry. He takes another fortifying sip of Dr. Pepper. He finishes the bottle far too quickly, tosses it in a recycling bin outside, and herds Dallon into his car. “Everything okay? You haven’t even opened your bottle.”

Dallon shrugs. “I usually avoid it at night. If I drink it now, I may never sleep tonight.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing?” Ryan blurts out before his brain fully catches up to him. He white-knuckles the gearshift for a second in an attempt to calm down.

Dallon’s hand comes down to rest on his over the gearshift. “Maybe, maybe not. Where are we going?”

“You can say no.” Ryan slides his hand out from under Dallon’s and places it on top. “I can take you back to your own house. But what I really want is for you to come home with me.” Slowly, he links their fingers together and picks up Dallon’s hand, placing it dangerously high up on his own thigh. “I want you to make love to me, Dallon.”

The pressure and warmth doesn’t leave his thigh, even when he squeezes his eyes shut. Dallon’s hand moves slowly, methodically, stroking gently with his thumb. “I won’t say no to that, pretty thing.” He opens his eyes when he feels Dallon’s hand leave his thigh, and is pinned under Dallon’s gaze as the other man opens his soda bottle and drinks.

If Ryan speeds a little on his way home, that’s his own damn business.

Dallon’s fingers dig into Ryan’s thigh when they pull up to the house, before he can unclip his seatbelt. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, quiet but insistent. “Do you, um, do you already have lube and condoms inside? If not, we’ll have to get some.”

“Dallon.” He leans over the console, coaxing his boyfriend into a kiss. Dallon complies, his hand still flexing nervously on Ryan’s thigh. “This wasn’t a last-minute decision,” Ryan whispers once the kiss breaks. “I’ve been planning this for over a week. Yes, I’m prepared.”

“That long, huh?” Dallon leans forward for another kiss, getting just the corner of Ryan’s mouth this time. He traces a line across Ryan’s cheek to his ear, where he whispers, “is that why you didn’t ask for anything for your birthday?”

Ryan wants to answer, but he can only shudder. Distantly he hears a seatbelt unlatch, followed by a second one, followed by his own seatbelt sliding across his chest. Dallon’s kissing his neck, stroking the other side with nimble fingers that dip below his collar. Feeling the first of his shirt buttons being undone snaps him back to reality. "Dallon. Inside. Bed."

"If you insist," Dallon murmurs against the skin, sealing the words there with one last kiss before pulling away.

There's a live wire between their joined hands as they walk from the car to the house, from the front door to the bedroom, burning Ryan's hand and making it impossible for him to let go. Only when the bedroom door shuts behind them does Dallon disentangle their fingers.

"We're going to take this slow," Dallon says, framing Ryan's face in both hands and looking deep into his eyes. "I'll warn you, this may feel strange or uncomfortable. But I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't hurt. Okay?"

"Yeah." Ryan lets himself get lost in Dallon's dark eyes for a brief moment. Then suddenly Dallon is kissing him with gentle purpose, and he lets their bodies melt together. He barely even notices the hands leaving his face to unbutton his shirt until both his shirt and jacket slip off his shoulders. He lets them fall to the floor, the sequins of his jacket making an oddly satisfying noise as they hit the ground. Ryan notices Dallon's breath catch when he moves to unbutton his shirt. "Please?" He whispers when Dallon's hands cover his own.

Dallon hesitates, but soon withdraws his hands to untuck his own shirt and let Ryan work. "Alright." Ryan fumbles with the buttons until Dallon once again covers his hands with his own, this time not holding them still, but steadying them. The shirt falls from Dallon’s shoulders. “You’re trembling. I’ll need you to calm down.” The words are steady, but Ryan can’t help but notice as he caresses Dallon’s chest that he’s trembling a little as well.

Soon they're pressed together in another kiss. Ryan feels himself growing hard against Dallon's thigh, along with a significant bulge pressing into his own hip. He groans when Dallon’s hands slip downward, one holding his ass and the other tugging at his belt. There’s a satisfying snapping noise when his belt is pulled free of his pants, and Ryan could swear he feels a twitch in Dallon’s cock immediately after the noise. Sometime he’d really like to learn the full implications of that. For now he lets himself be guided to the bed and pushed down against the mattress.

Dallon’s lips move to his neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers reverently against the skin. With his shoulders pinned down, Ryan can only arch his back and gasp in response. Dallon’s lips curve into a smile as he continues to press soft kisses all along his neck, pausing in some places to suck gently. Those nimble hands trace down his body to undo the fly of his jeans, tracing over his barely-clothed dick before he pulls away to stand up.

"Dallon?"

"It's okay, sweet thing. I've got you." Dallon peels the tight black jeans away from Ryan's legs and drops them on the floor. "Get out some lube and a condom," he says as he shucks off his own pants.

Ryan is a little transfixed watching him, but manages to fumble around in his nightstand and find the bottle of lube. He struggles to open the box of condoms, realizes he really should have thought this through a little better, and finally settles on tearing open the box to get one out. Dallon crawls on top of him, kneeling between his knees and kissing him. Ryan wraps his arms around Dallon’s shoulders, trying hard to pull him down and press their chests together. Dallon doesn’t move anything other than his head, his lips trailing along Ryan’s cheek until they graze his ear.

“Slow down, you crazy child,” he whispers in that sweet drawl.

Ryan huffs, throwing his head back to expose his neck, hoping Dallon will get the suggestion. “Why do we need to go so slow? I want you now.”

Dallon pulls away and fixes Ryan’s gaze. “I need you to relax.” His hand comes to rest on Ryan’s chest, the fingers splaying out over his ribs. “Your heart rate is so high. You’re so tense.”

Feeling emboldened, however briefly, Ryan mirrors the gesture on Dallon’s chest. The steady thumping of his lover’s heart is also on the quick side, somewhere around 130 if he had to guess. “So are you.”

Dallon meets Ryan’s eyes again. It’s incredible how bright blue his eyes are even in the dark. “I’m nervous, Ryan. It’s been a long time.”

“It’s okay, Dallon. I’m a little nervous too, and I’ve never done this.”

“I know.” Dallon’s voice drops into a husky tone as his eyes fill with lust again. “Trust me, I know.” He pauses to steal a kiss, taking his time in drawing from Ryan’s mouth. “But I also know, and from unfortunate experience, that if you aren’t completely relaxed it will hurt you. So please, sweetheart, don’t let me hurt you.”

“Okay. I trust you.” Ryan sits up a few inches to kiss Dallon, dragging him back down. Soon Dallon moves downward, kissing his chin, his jaw, his throat, his chest, all the way down to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeled away and dropped somewhere.

The snapping of the cap on the lube bottle seems to echo in the quiet room. Dallon clears his throat like a nervous reflex. “I just want you to get used to the feeling first,” he says as he spreads the lube over his fingers and pushes one in. It’s a strange feeling, not unpleasant, but nothing really more than that. Dallon pulls out and pushes back in with two fingers. This time is a bit more of a stretch. He spreads his legs a little further to alleviate the slight discomfort and lets himself focus on the fact that it’s Dallon doing this to him, that it’s Dallon’s long, callused fingers thrusting and twisting inside him, slowly lighting all his nerves on fire. The thought calms him immensely, so much so that he hardly registers the stretch when Dallon adds a third finger.

Dallon brushes against something inside, something that makes Ryan gasp and arch his back involuntarily. “Jesus Christ, Dal, what was that?”

His fingers continue moving slowly, avoiding the spot he just touched. “Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing I just found your g-spot.” He curls his fingers, this time hitting the spot dead on instead of just brushing over it, making Ryan whimper. “You didn’t think you didn’t have one, did you?”

“Dude, fuck me already.”

"Of course, sweet thing." Ryan elects not to mention the tremor in Dallon's voice. He just watches as Dallon strips out of his underwear and slowly, carefully rolls the condom on. "Um, wait. Hand me a pillow." Dallon wraps an arm under Ryan’s hips and lifts them up off the bed for a second, sliding the pillow underneath him and setting him back down on it. “This should make it a little easier on you,” he stammers as he reaches for the lube a second time and slicks up his cock. “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”

Ryan feels the head of Dallon’s dick pressing against his ass, and the anticipation is driving him crazy. “Yes. Please.” Another long second passes before Dallon pushes in. He gasps. It's a fine line between discomfort and pain, and he's just barely on the right side of it. His breaths come quickly, shallowly, for a few seconds before Dallon wraps a hand loosely around his dick. Dallon’s touch is delicate, not really taking him any closer to orgasm, just taking the edge off the uncomfortable stretch.

“You’re so good, Ryan. You’re doing so good.” It sounds like Dallon is trying hard to maintain composure, to be in control, but his voice is barely more than a whisper. “It gets easier from here. Can I move?”

“Yeah. Yeah you can.” Ryan’s not sure how it could get easier, much less better, but he trusts in Dallon’s experience and Dallon in general. Soon he feels more and more filled, Dallon’s soft breaths and grunts from forcing himself to go slowly echoing in his ears. A long moment passes. Ryan looks up and sees an expression on Dallon’s face alarmingly similar to the one he makes on stage whenever he drops to his knees in the middle of a song, and wow, he is never going to see that the same way again. Dallon has stopped moving. A little late, Ryan realizes that their hips are flush together.

"R- Ryan-"

"Dal," Ryan pants. He feels boneless, formless, only aware of the points where Dallon's body meets his. "Kiss me." He lets his lips melt against Dallon’s, now keenly aware of every spot their bodies are pressed together. About the same time that Dallon’s tongue slips into his mouth, he feels sparks tingling up and down his spine and realizes the source is Dallon rolling his hips gently. Ryan lets Dallon swallow his moans as he thrusts gently with his hips and tongue. Every part of him is on fire where Dallon’s body presses against his, from his lips to his knees. His cock especially ignites with need, rubbing up against his boyfriend’s soft stomach in time with the steady movements of his hips. The kiss breaks as Ryan arches his neck to gasp, and Dallon claims the offered space immediately. “Fuck, Dallon,” he groans as teeth scrape over his throat. He starts to roll his own hips to get more friction on his dick, and the way it changes the feeling of Dallon inside him makes his brain short out.

“Does it feel good?” Ryan can’t think to answer for a few seconds, and Dallon slows to a stop. “Ryan?” He pulls away to meet Ryan’s eyes. “I can stop if you need me to- ahh.”

His voice gets choked off into a moan when Ryan tugs on his hair. “Don’t you dare. Please. Don’t stop.”

“Okay.” Dallon ducks down for another kiss, soft and quick. “Okay, yeah.” The kisses become deeper and longer as they match Dallon’s thrusts. Helpless, Ryan can only hook his ankles around his back to hold him close, to pull him ever impossibly closer. A hand wraps around Ryan’s dick again, the knuckles rubbing against his stomach as the hand jerks.

“Dallon,” Ryan grunts, fighting to get the words out before he loses all his thoughts to the sick syncopation of Dallon’s hand and dick. “I’m not gonna last.”

“I know- oh-” Ryan cuts him off in the middle of the word by tugging his hair again. Dallon’s body tenses for a moment as he lets out a long, rough groan, his expression twisting from one of aggressive focus to a mellow smile. His hand and hips start moving again, erratic. The realization that Dallon is coming brings Ryan to his own orgasm, spilling over Dallon’s hand with a groan. Dallon collapses on top of him after a few more weak, stuttered thrusts.

“Dal. Get off.” Ordinarily, Ryan would love having Dallon laying on top of him, but he’d really rather be at least vaguely clean beforehand.

“Just did, if you couldn’t tell.”

The smack on Dallon’s shoulder almost echoes. “No dad jokes in bed.” Ryan would feel bad about smacking him if Dallon weren’t still giggling. Dallon kisses Ryan's jaw before pulling out, tying off and throwing out the condom. Ryan reaches for a tissue and starts cleaning himself off, but Dallon soon takes it from him.

"Let me."

"I can take care of myself."

"Ryan, please. Let me." Dallon's voice is so vulnerable that Ryan gives up, realizing that Dallon needs this more than he does.

"Okay." He's starting to get sleepy, and he has to admit that Dallon's hand lovingly caressing his stomach as he wipes it dry feels really good. When Dallon throws the tissue out, Ryan pulls him down into a kiss, pouring out all the love he can until he finally falls asleep.

When Ryan wakes up, he's a little sore all over, but completely relaxed. He kind of wants to get up, but Dallon's weight on his shoulder and chest is solid and comforting, and he really doesn't want to wake his boyfriend up. He picks up his phone from the nightstand and uses the front camera to check his reflection. There's bright pink marks all over his neck, and his lips are a far darker pink than usual. He moves the camera a little further away, until he can also see the reflection of Dallon's sleeping face, and takes a quick picture.

* * *

_ DW: Stop. _

_ DW: Drop. _

_ DW: Drag me into place. _

_ DW: Lock the fire escapes. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: I'll break your fuckin face! _

_ DW: Language, Ryan. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: sorry. I’ll break your PRETTY face. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: better? _

_ DW: Awww, you think I’m pretty? _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: I mean, _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: yes obviously _

_ DW: You’re too sweet. _

_ DW: And you’re also prettier than me, for what it’s worth. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: lies. _

_ Nerd Boyfriend: not possible. _

_ ~ _

_ Sodapop Smith: love the new song, dally _

_ DW: You've heard it already?! _

_ Sodapop Smith: of course man. I try to keep up with you _

_ Sodapop Smith: and I'm not the only one _

_ Sodapop Smith: ur way more popular than you think _

Dallon taps his screen for a few seconds, then checks his YouTube channel. That is… a lot more views than he was expecting. And after only going public with the band two months ago… is this it?

_ DW: I miss you, Spence. Can I see you and Linda sometime soon? _

_ Sodapop Smith: yeah man sure. we miss you too _

_ Sodapop Smith: and I'd LOVE to meet ryan for real sometime ;) _

_ DW: I’d like that too. _

_ Sodapop Smith: you know, whenever ur ready to take that next step. I’ll support you. and I think you can take that step whenever ur ready now. _

_ DW: Thanks for everything, Spencer. Love you. _

_ Sodapop Smith: love you too man. send our love to breezy, ok? _

_ ~ _

_ DW: Do you think I could leave Panic? For real this time? _

_ Breezy Dee: I think if you’re asking me, you’ve already decided _

_ Breezy Dee: And you want to see whether I’ll talk you out of it _

_ Breezy Dee: So a better question is, why do you want me to talk you out of it? _

_ DW: I’m scared of things changing. _

_ Breezy Dee: Everything changes, whether you do something about it or not. Your intervention only determines whether those changes go in the direction you want _

_ Breezy Dee: What happens if you stay in Panic? _

_ DW: Brendon’s working on an album right now. So if I stay, he’ll keep me around for at least one more tour to support that album. _

_ Breezy Dee: And if you leave? _

_ DW: I don’t know. _

_ Breezy Dee: You know one thing. You get to be with Ryan if you leave. For better and for worse. _

_ Breezy Dee: For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, etc. _

_ DW: Why do you make it sound like marriage? _

_ Breezy Dee: I don’t really hear you complaining _

_ Breezy Dee: Ultimately, isn’t that what you want? _

_ DW: Yes. _

_ Breezy Dee: So quit being some other guy’s bitch. _

* * *

_ BDubs: Lemme know if your flight gets delayed _

_ Ryan: I’ll do my best. Thanks Breezy _

_ BDubs: No, thank YOU Ryan _

_ BDubs: Dallon will need you around these next few days. _

_ BDubs: He’s already moping over the fact that you’ weren’t here for Christmas _

_ Ryan: I wish I was :/ _

_ BDubs: I know babe. So does he _

_ Ryan: gtg, boarding _

_ BDubs: See you in a couple hours _

_ Ryan: 💖 !! _

* * *

“Ryan?” Fuck, Dallon is beautiful, even with his bedhead and five o’clock shadow and obviously slept-in Christmas sweater. Maybe especially because of these things. He doesn’t need Dallon poised or polished, just needs him there.

“Hey bro.” Suddenly he’s being kissed hard, Dallon’s hands framing his face. He doesn’t care that it’s broad daylight, that he’s still standing in Dallon’s door, he just lays his hands on Dallon’s waist and lets their bodies melt together.

Dallon’s smile breaks the kiss as his hand moves to Ryan’s hair, coming away with something green. “Mistletoe? really?”

“Goddammit, I knew Breezy put something in my hair.” Ryan takes the sprig of mistletoe, tucks it behind Dallon’s ear, and kisses him again until they’re both giggling.

“Where’d she go?”

“Don’t know.” Ryan looks back at the road to see her car gone. “I think she just wanted to give us some alone time.” He turns back to Dallon, pulling him close. “Cold out here.”

Dallon chuckles as he pulls Ryan inside, shutting the door behind them. “You’re too used to southern California.”

Ryan makes a show of looking around the room. “I can get used to anywhere,” he says, hoping Dallon picks up on the subtext. Dallon crosses to him and kisses his hand, so it’s a fair bet. They sit down on Dallon’s couch, and Ryan lets his head rest on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Breezy said you would need me around today. What’s going on?”

Dallon’s breath hitches, and his knees fold up into his chest. Ryan sits up to face him, but leaves a hand resting on his arm. He strokes with his thumb to coax the words out. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently. About us, about the directions I want to be able to take. As a band and as a couple.” His hand comes to rest on top of Ryan’s. “Every question I asked myself came back to the same answer. That answer is… I’m finally leaving Panic.”

The words don’t really sink in until Dallon blinks a few times and smiles timidly at Ryan, and then it hits him like a ton of bricks.  _ Holy shit _ . “Eight and a half years, Dal.”

“I know.” His smile keeps getting bigger and brighter, and it’s infectious. “It’s over. I’m free.”

“Wait,” Ryan reaches out for both of Dallon’s hands. “You’ve already left? It’s official?”

Dallon nods, his body unfolding into a normal sitting position. “Just about. Already spoke to Brendon, signed the contracts, and spoke with my replacement and the label. All that’s left to do is announce it publicly.” With one last squeeze, Ryan lets go of Dallon’s hands and watches nervously for a few minutes as he types on his phone. After a while, Dallon sets his phone down on the coffee table and leans back, covering his eyes. Within a few seconds, Ryan’s phone buzzes with a new notification.

_ Instagram: dallonweekes just posted a photo _

“Eloquent as always, sweetheart.” Dallon doesn’t move, even when Ryan lays a hand on his knee. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t.” His hands finally come down from his face, but his expression remains blank. “Suddenly, I don’t really feel it. I thought that telling the world would somehow make it final, make it real, make it better. But I’m just emotionally drained.”

Ryan starts rubbing circles into Dallon’s knee, trailing a few inches up his thigh and returning each time. “I’m proud of you, even if you can’t feel proud of yourself just yet.”

Dallon’s hand comes to rest on his, and their eyes finally meet again. “Eight and a half years. This feels like a divorce.” The word hangs heavy in the air. Ryan feels his hand being slowly guided further up Dallon’s thigh, millimeters at a time.

“Do you always think of a band as a marriage?”

“Why do you think, out of every musician I know, you’re the one I wanted in this band with me?” Oh. Oh  _ fuck _ . He really should have expected the answer, but that doesn’t stop it from taking all the air out of his lungs. His hand is now dangerously close to Dallon’s crotch. Dallon leans down to press their foreheads together. “I’m yours.”

“You’re mine,” Ryan chokes out. Their lips meet, barely, a soft brush that’s anything but chaste. Dallon’s hands come up to twist into Ryan’s shirt.

“Prove it.” Dallon leans back, pulling Ryan down on top of him. Ryan follows wherever Dallon guides him- to his neck, to his room, to the pile of their clothes on the floor, to his bed, to prepping him, to his neck again, back to his lips as Ryan slowly buries himself, held in place by Dallon’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

* * *

Dallon surveys the room proudly. He's the only one not paired off, but he doesn't feel lonely. Just feels warm, secure. In one corner, Breezy is talking to a girl, he thinks she was introduced as Matt's friend? Rose something? In any case, it looks from here like Breezy is being hit on. Whatever is happening she's clearly enjoying it. In another corner, Matt and Ian mess around with guitars, trying to work out an arrangement of Auld Lang Syne. Ryan is glowing as he unashamedly sings along with them.

"Only took you nine years."

"Hm?"

Breezy laughs. "To get Ryan. To come back to Salt Lake City. To wipe that heartbroken look off your face. Take your pick, dear."

Dallon rolls his eyes. "What happened to your girlfriend?"

"Rosalinda's not my girlfriend."

"Not yet."

Breezy's blush is a pretty good indicator that Dallon was right. "She just went to get another drink." She bites her lip. "She's a bassist too, you know. Matt was in a band with her for a minute."

"You have a type."

"Fuck all the way off." They both laugh for a second. Breezy smiles up at him. "I'm proud of you. Can't wait to see where you go."

"Me either," he beams. "I just hope, wherever I end up, you'll be there too."

"Save that corny bullshit for your boyfriend, geez."

"Oh, trust me, he gets way cornier bullcrap from me." He wraps an arm around Breezy's shoulders and kisses her on the forehead.

"That's exactly what he deserves." Ryan whoops loudly from the corner, and they both turn to watch him exchange high-fives with Ian and Matt. "It's almost midnight."

"Breezy…"

"You should. Start your year off right."

"I could say the same to you." Breezy blushes and starts to argue, but Rosalinda emerges from the kitchen. Dallon offers her his hand to shake. She’s got a firm handshake. He likes that about her immediately. “Take care of her for me,” he says with no further explanation, and relishes the dirty look Breezy gives him as the pair walk away.

Ryan stumbles over to him, half falling into his arms. He’s adorable in this state, just enough off his rocker to be a little uncoordinated and to find everything funny. Dallon loves him in every state, and it floors him that he gets to have Ryan in all of them. “Hey gorgeous.”

Dallon brushes hair out of Ryan’s eyes with a smile. “Hey yourself.”

“‘S almost midnight.”

“I’m aware.” Dallon cradles Ryan’s jaw in one hand like he’s something delicate, staring into those deep brown eyes with reverence. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really.” Dallon’s heart flutters when Ryan turns his face to press a kiss to his palm. “Just excited.”

“Me too.”

Ryan takes the mug from Dallon’s other hand and raises it to his lips seductively, then sputters after taking a sip. “Jesus Christ, what are you drinking?”

“Hot Dr. Pepper.” The mug gets set down on a table next to them. It’s a reflex, simple as breathing, for Dallon to wrap his now-free hand around Ryan’s waist.

“You’re fucking nasty, dude.” There’s no bite behind the words, especially not since Ryan’s hands come up to mirror Dallon’s. Dallon wonders if Ryan can feel his pulse quicken in the space behind and under his jaw, where those calloused yet gentle fingertips rest.

Dallon spares a glance at the tv in the corner of the room, showing the ball drop in New York on a two-hour delay. It’s just seconds to midnight. The other guys are starting to count down, but Dallon can only focus on Ryan’s voice softly counting down. The others’ shouts of “happy new year!” ring in his ears as he kisses Ryan with fervor, with calm, with diffidence, with confidence, with innocence, with passion, with everything he is.

“Happy new year, Dallon.” They’ve broken apart to breathe, their foreheads pressed together.

“Happy new year, Ryan. Welcome to the first year of the rest of our life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to Patrii, and as always, to Soren, Lucas, Jeff, Rio, and Siobhan.

**Author's Note:**

> still at nobutseriouslywhat.tumblr.com . Or, if you prefer any other social medias (twitter, instagram, tiktok, etc.), you can find me @alonelylion. Or discord. You can yell at me on discord, if you can find me.  
> fun fact? I guess? the description of Ryan in the shower in chapter 1 is taken from a haiku I wrote one night: "shower in the dark | droplets feel like his fingers | on my lonely skin". Shoutout to whomever stole my phone two months ago, hope you had fun with that folder full of haikus and obscure horror movie titles.  
> After this second chapter gets out, there will still be more to the series, but it'll all be kept in one fic as multiple unconnected chapters. Backstory, alternate POV, stuff like that. Shoutout to the Brobecks abandoned youtube channel for still existing, and to Soren for going to bed at a reasonable time that one time so I could be left alone with my thoughts and start writing this series in a manic haze. You're a real one, Soren. Also shoutout to Lucas for live-texting me his reactions while I was at work and making my boss ask if I was okay because I was laughing too hard.


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